


Leaving

by Szeszely



Category: Sports RPF
Genre: Bayern München, Borussia Dortmund, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Leaving, M/M, Persistence, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szeszely/pseuds/Szeszely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mario leaves Dortmund.</p><p>"I know enough's enough<br/>And you're leaving<br/>You've had enough time<br/>To decide on your freedom<br/>But I can still find some hope<br/>To believe in love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> At school we were assigned to write a short story, using only poem lines as dialogues and when I was listening to Leaving (Pet Shop Boys), the idea of using the lyrics popped into my head. So here it is, I hope you like it.

Mario knew it was the wrong decision the minute he had signed the papers.  Running away might seem easier than facing the inevitable problems of publicity, but…  But running means leaving behind the purest treasure he would ever get in his life. Sadly, there was no turning back; his signature on the paper was the cruel evidence of what he had done.

The slamming of his front door woke him up from his thoughts with a startle. He fidgeted nervously, unsure of what would happen, though he knew who to expect.

Marco strolled into the room, not bothering to greet Mario or even look at him. He started throwing his things into a suitcase he produced from somewhere. Mario stood up and took a cautious step towards his lover when he spoke up.

 

“I know.” Marco said, his voice hoarse, like he had been crying or shouting all the way from the stadium. _Judging by his personality, it was most likely both at once._

 

Mario opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to form a coherent sentence. The bitter laugh of Marco hurt when it filled the room and Mario couldn’t stand his look. How different it sounded just a few weeks ago, when they had a day off and Marco cheerfully babbled about the summer training camps. Mario didn’t have the heart – or the courage? – to tell him there and then. Instead, he gave Marco a present: a framed picture of them, taken during their Christmas at Mario’s parents.

Mario heard a crash and looked up with wide eyes. There were broken glass fragments all around Marco and one of their old pictures torn into tiny pieces. The same happened to three more, before Marco reached for the one that Mario had just given him. _But no, he cannot tear that as well,_ Mario wouldn’t let him _._

“Enough’s enough, and…” He spoke up firmly, but Marco didn’t let him finish.

 

“You’re leaving.” He half-shouted with watering eyes, and Mario’s previous assumptions about his voice had been confirmed.

 

Mario swallowed and started in a much calmer way, grabbing Marco’s hand. “You’ve had enough time…”

 

His voice died in his throat as Marco nodded coldly and pulled his hand out of Mario’s hold. “To decide on your freedom.”  _No. That couldn’t mean…. Mario, you fool, what have you done?_

“But I can still find some hope to believe in love.” Mario tried.

 

 It was quiet for a second and Mario really thought that there was hope. For a second.

 

“Our love is dead.” Marco’s tone split Mario’s heart in half.

 

“But the dead don’t go away. They made us what we are, they’re with us every day.” Mario uttered in panic and Marco blinked, then averted his gaze from his lover.

 

“Our love is dead.” He repeated, but in a much more hesitant way.

 

“But the dead are still alive in memory and thoughts and the context they provide.”

 

They stood there for a moment in complete silence. Then Marco slowly turned towards the door. “I know, enough’s enough.”

 

Mario nodded in sheer devastation and stated the obvious. “And you’re leaving.”

 

Marco stopped one step away from the hallway and replied, without turning his head. “You’ve had enough time to decide on your…”

 

“Freedom.”

 

Mario finished his sentence and Marco didn’t need to see his face to detect the pain. _But what’s done is done, there’s nothing left to do._ He walked a few reluctant meters before he stopped again and listened. The partly-muffled sobs echoed in the big and empty house, like the word, _leaving,_ rang in Marco’s ears mercilessly. Yet, he wasn’t able to go. Sighing, he hurried back into the bedroom to find Mario, _Sunny_ , collapsed between the shattered glass, covering his face with his shaking hands. He didn’t think it was possible anymore, but the sight broke Marco’s heart again. He plopped down next to Mario and gently grabbed his wrists.

“But I can still find some hope to believe in love.”

 

Mario looked up, his face swollen from weeping. “Our love is dead.”

 

Marco nodded. “Our love is dead.”

 

A few more sobs escaped from Mario and Marco’s eyes started watering again. _Is there any happiness left in the world, when even the Sun is crying?_

 

“But the dead are here to stay.” Mario muttered, half-asking and Marco nodded again, his vision blurred.

 

“Don’t go away.” He wanted it to sound forceful, but it came out more like pleading. Marco didn’t care anymore, just _don’t go, Sunny, please don’t go_. He slid his hands in Mario’s. “They made us what we are.”

 

 Mario glanced at the broken glass, then at their clasped hands. “That’s what we are.”

 

Marco squeezed. “They’re with us every day.”

 

“Oh, every day.” Mario broke down and buried his face in Marco’s neck. They stayed like that for a while, both crying silently. Marco was the first to compose himself.

 

“In darkest nights…” He started and Mario looked up with puffy and red eyes.

 

“In darkest nights?” There was so much hope in that question that Marco felt like melting a little.

 

“Their memory keeps us strong.” He said and swiped away the tears from Mario’s face. “It keeps us strong.”

 

Mario casted down his gaze and took a deep breath, as if it was the last before the plunge.

 

“And if our love is dead?”

 

 His voice was barely audible, but Marco caught it anyway. He grabbed Mario’s chin and lifted up his head, looking deep into his eyes.

 

“It won’t be dead for long.” Marco whispered and closed the distance between them, sealing the promise with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

At night, when they were lying on the bed, pressed close against each other, Marco murmured his comforting words into Mario’s hair.

 

“I know.” He caressed Mario’s back gently. “Enough’s enough. You’ve had enough.”

 

Mario wanted to get away for the sake of his career and he understood that. He was just selfish, and he felt guilty because of that. He needed to support Mario in what was best for him.

 

“Time to decide on your freedom.” Mario said and Marco froze. He didn’t want freedom if that meant he would lose Mario. Marco wanted to be attached to him, no matter what. _There would be no life without the Sun._

 

“But I can still find some hope.” Mario added and a faint smile appeared on Marco’s face.

 

“To believe in love?” He asked.

 

“Believe in love.” Mario murmured against his lips and kissed him with a force that could mean only one word. _Forever._

 

When he pulled back, Marco grabbed the collar of his shirt to keep him in place.

“Don’t go away.” He said and Mario laughed. _Never._


End file.
